


Hold My Hand

by cw151



Series: Clawen Week 2015 [3]
Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Clawen, Clawen Week, F/M, Liberation, Romance, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 09:25:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4559352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cw151/pseuds/cw151
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - Clawen songfic based on "Hold My Hand" by Jess Glynne.<br/>Claire rescues herself, and finds a little help on the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold My Hand

**Author's Note:**

  * For [13oct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/13oct/gifts).



> Based on a tumblr prompt - readerholicm asked dailyclawen for a Clawen song fic featuring "Hold My Hand" - here it is. :) 
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

**"Hold My Hand" by Jess Glynne**

 

Standing in a crowded room and I can't see your face

Put your arms around me, tell me everything's OK

In my mind, I'm running round a cold and empty space

Just put your arms around me, tell me everything's OK

 

Break my bones but you won't see me fall, oh

The rising tide will rise against them all, oh

 

Darling, hold my hand

Oh, won't you hold my hand?

'Cause I don't wanna walk on my own anymore

Won't you understand? 'Cause I don't wanna walk alone

I'm ready for this, there's no denying

I'm ready for this, you stop me falling

I'm ready for this, I need you all in

I'm ready for this, so darling, hold my hand

 

Soul is like a melting pot when you're not next to me

Tell me that you've got me and you're never gonna leave

Tryna find a moment where I can find release

Please tell me that you've got me and you're never gonna leave

 

Don't wanna know

That feeling when I'm all alone

So please don't make me wait, 'cause I don't wanna break

And I don't wanna fall

When you're next to me

Can tell I'm not afraid to be

That you don't make me wait, and never let me break

You never let me fall

 

 

 

Claire’s eyes frantically searched the room. It was crowded, and she couldn’t see his face. He’d promised her that he’d be there, though, and she wished for nothing more than to feel his arms around her and his soothing voice to tell her that everything was ok.

 

 

She’d been doing this for what felt like forever. She started singing, acting, and dancing at only three years old, and with her mom pushing her for just as long, she’d made it through years of dance training and singing lessons to her first recording contract, her first movie, and finally, to worldwide shows and several platinum records.

 

She loved what she was doing, she really did. But there had been a time, not very long ago, when she’d felt like her mind was trapped in a cold and empty space. She had been doing her shows, her interviews, her recordings, but none of it felt real, and nothing felt like her, not even she herself.

 

For a while, she’d thought that the only way out was to stop. To give it all up and leave. She’d played that thought so often, but didn’t think she could actually do it. She loved what she was doing too much. She loved how dancing made her feel like she was flying, she loved the feeling of life itself bursting out of her when she sang, and she loved how she could slip into the lives of completely different people when she was acting.

 

Despite all of this love, however, she had been utterly unhappy.

 

Her mom and her manager Vic Hoskins micro-managed every aspect of her being ever since she could think. They told her what to eat, what to say and not say, how to act, what to like and not to like, when to go to sleep, when to wake up, and when and how to practice and exert her talents. She had countless of ideas of her own, songs she wanted to write (and had already written), choreographies she wanted to create, movies she wanted to produce, things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. Vic and her mother made all the decisions, and while she’d been trying to rebel and to take control of what she was doing for months now, her mother and Vic had too tight of a grip on her. They knew exactly what to say to make her feel guilty for even asking to try a new idea; they knew how to punish her by ignoring her, and they knew how to use her loyalty, perfectionism, and virtuousness against her in any way possible.

 

One night, she’d sat in the bathroom of her hotel, wrapped in a bathrobe, her make-up smeared from hours of crying that she didn’t know how to stop. She’d felt trapped, wondering just how she could do what she loved without hurting her mother or Vic. She needed to get out, but she had no idea how.

 

A loud knock had pulled her from her fixation. She felt as if she was rising up from deep waters, the knock gradually breaking through to her ears as her breathing became labored.

 

“Claire, honey, are you in there? Claire! I just went through the script again and I think we should practice the scene again where Lydia confronts Torben. The directions are saying Lydia is emotional, not angry, so we have to go through it all again. I know the shoot doesn’t start until Monday, but I think we should do it now so we can see if there’s anything else you need to work on til then.”

 

Claire closed her eyes and tried to drown out her mother’s shrill voice. It didn’t work. Her mother’s knocks became more persistent.

 

“Claire! What on earth are you doing in there? Are you even listening to me?” Her mother was positively banging on to the door by now.

 

Anger bubbled up inside Claire. Why could they all not just leave her alone? She didn’t care about Lydia and Torben and that whole stupid movie. It was a rom-com Vic and her mother had picked, despite the fact that Claire hated those. Besides, how was she supposed to play a woman in love when she’d only ever been on one date in her entire life, despite the fact that she was already 22? Her mother and Vic were curating this perfectly clean image of her, one that consisted of crisp white outfits and perfect make-up at all times, and very few smiles. Even Claire’s red hair was kept in line by red-hot straighteners several times a day. The no-dating rule was also part of that, as Vic and her mother didn’t want to give the media any reason to gossip. The fact that the media still did and only ended up calling her an ice queen, a stuck-up prude, and worse didn’t seem to bother either of them, though.

 

The rage inside her felt as if it was glowing. She didn’t want this anymore. She didn’t want to think about Lydias and Torbens and mediocre songs and typical pop choreographies. She wanted more, she wanted life. _Her_ life, the one that she’d been given to live only for herself.

 

Suddenly, Claire felt as if a door had opened to the empty space inside her head. She had to make it all stop, yes, and there was only one solution. It was scary, and entirely unfamiliar, but absolutely necessary if she wanted to live. She had to cut her mother and Vic out of her life completely.

 

Slowly, Claire rose and wiped the sleeve of her bathrobe across her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, mentally drawing up pictures of all the strong women she’d met and read about, and straightened her shoulders. Her mother was still knocking and talking when Claire suddenly pulled the door open with one swift motion. Her mother stopped for a second, just staring at her, and was about to continue her endless monologue when Claire cut her off.

 

“No,” she said, loud and determined.

 

“What?” her mother replied, dumbfounded.

 

“No, we will not go through the scene again. No, I won’t get up at 3 am tomorrow morning to Skype with Good Morning America. And no, I will not collaborate with Chris Brown. He beat up Rihanna,” Claire said resolutely. She hoped that she was able to cover up the fact that her heart was racing and that she was slightly dizzy from using that kind of tone towards her mother for the first time in her life.

 

“I beg your pardon?” Her mother’s voice got even shriller.

 

“You heard me. And now, please leave. And give me your key. If you want to come into my room, you can knock, like everyone else,” Claire continued, feeling stronger by the second.

 

Her mother just stared at her, so Claire put out her hand to reinforce her point. Ever so slowly her mother pulled the key card from her back pocket.

 

“Ok, honey, calm down. It’s been a long day, I know. Why don’t you go to bed? We’ll talk this all over tomorrow morning. I’ll come wake you. Knocking,” she added with a slight smile.

 

Claire didn’t have the strength to argue further, so she just nodded.

 

Once the door closed behind her mother, Claire let out a small wince of delight. She felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders. She’d never stood up to her mother like this, and it made her head spin. She braced herself on to an armchair next to her, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths.

 

She was going to do this. It would be painful, and difficult, but she was strong. She could cut Vic and her mother out of her professional and personal life.  

 

When she opened her eyes again, she noticed that she was facing one of the huge windows of her suite at the Wynn. It was overlooking the strip of Las Vegas, and now that it was dark, the strip was entirely covered in blinding and blinking lights that seemed to promise life and laughter and adventure.

 

They were only staying for one night. Claire had given an interview and a small concert earlier today, and her mother and Vic had decided that they would stay in Vegas instead of traveling onwards so Claire would look bright and fresh for her GMA Skype interview the next morning.

 

That interview was far from Claire’s mind now, though, and as she was staring down at the lights of the strip, she almost felt as if they were calling out to her, telling her to come join in the fun that she’d been forced to do without for so long.

 

In the split of a second, Claire made her next big decision that night. She was going to go out.

 

She put on a newcomer indie band called “The Raptor Squad” as she got ready. She’d discovered their music by accident and immediately taken an immense liking to it. One of their songs struck a particular chord with her tonight.

 

 “Break my bones but you won’t see me fall, oh

The rising tide will rise against them all, oh”

 

Maybe she should make that her motto from now on. It only seemed suitable.

 

When she was done, she admired herself in the mirror. No more “signature look”. Instead, she was wearing a lavender, loose-fitting dress that was covered in sequins, paired with nude colored high-heeled sandals. She’d found the dress in an airport shop in Costa Rica and mostly bought it just because her mother had hated it so much, but now it was exactly what she needed. Her hair was styled in its natural waves, no more straighteners allowed, and her face was made-up with smokey eyes and red lipgloss.

 

Satisfied with the way she looked, Claire grabbed her purse and phone and snuck to the door.

 

"Jeremy?” she called out to the bodyguard she knew was stationed outside.

 

“Yes, Miss?” came his reply through the door.

 

“Do you think you could head down to the hotel lobby and see if they have some pain killers in the hotel shop? I’ve got a terrible headache.” Claire felt a bit bad for tricking him, but she knew that he would straight up tell her mom if he saw her leave.

 

“Sure thing, I’ll be right back. Don’t open the door for anyone while I’m away,” Jeremy replied.

 

Claire listened to his steps fading away and carefully opened the door. Jeremy was just disappearing behind the corner leading to the elevators.

 

She gently closed the door behind her and crept into the opposite direction. If she walked long enough on the same floor, she’d get to the other side of the building where they had another set of elevators.

 

The hallway was completely deserted, just like the elevator when it arrived. On its way down, however, the elevator stopped and opened to two guys and four girls. They were laughing loudly, shooting a quick “hello” at Claire as they entered. Claire just smiled back and hoped that they wouldn’t recognize her.

 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” one of the guys suddenly asked her. He was a head taller than her, had piercing blue eyes, rugged stubble on his chin and a winning smile that made her a little weak in the knees. He was wearing a blue button-up shirt, a leather vest, dark jeans and boots.

Claire was frantically searching her mind for something to say when the girls barked with laughter.

 

“ _Do I know you from somewhere_? Seriously, Owen? Is that the best you can do?” one of them said. She and the three other girls were all dressed similarly in waist-high black pants and skin-tight long-sleeved tops in different colors. The one who had spoken was sporting blue strands in her hair, and on closer observation, Claire supposed that all four of them were sisters by the way they resembled each other.

 

“Shut up, Blue,” Owen said and turned back to Claire. “I’m serious. You look familiar.”

Claire decided not to lie to him. For some reason she had the feeling that the people around her wouldn’t rat her out if they recognized her. That didn’t mean she had to give them all the details though.

“I don’t think we’ve met. My name is Claire,” she replied, fixing him with a firm gaze. An amused sparkle entered Owen’s eyes, and suddenly, their small space felt a lot smaller than before and Owen much closer.

“Hi Claire, I’m Owen. And these are my sisters Blue, Charlie, Echo, and Delta. Not their real names, no. But then we’re rockstars, so we need special names.” he said, with a cocky smirk. “And this is Barry, our manager.” He used his thumb to point at the black man next to him who was wearing a grey suit and sporting a wide, friendly grin.

Claire shot all of them a quick smile.

“You look like you’re out to party,” Owen added, seizing her up.

Claire raised an eyebrow.

“That’s probably because I am,” she replied as she met his inquisitive gaze with her own, challenging one.

“You should come with us, then,” Owen said, his eyes still fixed on her. “Unless you have other plans.”

“You actually should. We promise that we’re really nice. Even Mr Alpha-Male here isn’t as creepy as he seems,” Charlie cut in. Her face was one of the friendliest Claire had ever seen.

“O-ok,” Claire agreed hesitantly. It wasn’t like she had any other plans, and she could always leave if she wanted. “Where are you guys going?”

“We’ve got a table at XS for now, and then we’ll see where the night takes us,” Blue said right before the elevator doors finally opened. “Let’s go!”

 

Owen finally ripped is gaze from Claire at Blue’s command, and they all exited the elevator. Claire clenched her fists and hoped to God that no-one recognized her in the lobby. Fortunately, walking in the middle of the group, no passersby paid her any attention, however.

“What’s your band name if you’re rockstars?” Claire asked to distract herself.

“The Raptor Squad,” Owen replied, his voice proud. Claire whipped her head around to look at him.

“Seriously?” she asked, and Owen nodded.

“Yeah, why?”

“I listened to you album when I got ready just now. I love it. Especially ‘Clearly His First Rodeo’ and ‘Fits and Jump Starts’,” Claire replied excitedly. She didn’t know anything about the people behind The Raptor Squad because she hadn’t had time to research them in greater detail after she discovered their music.

“Really? Oh wow, our first groupie!” Owen grinned to the others.

Their conversation was interrupted by their arrival at XS. Barry herded them through the guest list line, and a few seconds later they were inside the club and at their table.

 

Claire could hardly contain her excitement. While she’d performed at clubs countless times, she’d never actually been a guest at one. She felt giddy like a child at Christmas as she watched the people on the dance floor and around them. The DJ seemed to know his stuff, and she couldn’t wait to hit the dance floor as well.

 

“Tequila shots!” Owen shouted in her ear with a big grin. “Gotta start the night out right!”

He passed out shot-glasses and lemons to everyone. Claire hadn’t ever had a Tequila shot, or any alcoholic shot, for that matter. Every now and then, she’d been able to drink some champagne at some of the events she was invited to or performing at, but usually, her mother and Vic had watched her with eagle eyes at those times so she hadn’t dared to overdo it.

 

As a result, she inconspicuously watched and copied the others as they licked the back of their hands and sprinkled some salt on to the wet patch. They chinked their glasses, and when she swallowed the bitter liquid, Claire thought she was going to throw up from the taste. She definitely saw the point of sucking lemons afterwards.

 

Despite the bad taste, Claire felt exhilarated, and immediately joined Blue, Delta, Echo and Charlie when they began dancing around and later on their table. After a while, Owen and Barry joined in, too, and Claire had to admit that Owen in particular was a great dancer. Maybe it was the alcohol, but she felt drawn to him as if they were joined by a rubber band. Owen seemed to feel similarly, and soon, the two of them were dancing together, Owen spinning her around expertly. Claire was laughing and smiling, and she finally had that feeling that she’d been craving for so long. She was young, she was alive, and she was happy in the moment. She wasn’t thinking about the way she looked, the way her voice sounded or her posture. It almost felt as if she wasn’t thinking at all. Her eyes locked with Owen’s sparkling ones, and suddenly, she felt as if a jolt of electricity ran through her.

 

Some time later, she and Owen were standing at the bar of the VIP area. There was only very little space around them; behind them was a waist-high wall that formed the back of some seats belonging to another VIP area table, and on the other side was the bar counter. They were discussing different bands and albums when Claire suddenly saw Vic across the room. He’d just come through the front door and hadn’t spotted her yet, but she immediately panicked. She grabbed Owen’s hand and pulled him down to crouch behind the waist-high wall next to them. Owen followed her movements without hesitation, and both of them were now perching low, their backs against the wall, still holding hands.

“What’s going on?” Owen mouthed, a smile playing on his lips.

“Someone just came in and I really don’t want him to see me,” Claire yelled over the music into his ear.

“You on the run from the law?” Owen joked back.

Claire just rolled her eyes.

“No, he’s my manager,” she replied. Owen raised his eyebrows.

“Your _manager_? Wow, even groupies have managers now,” he said mockingly.

“I never said I was a groupie,” Claire replied, fixing him with a defiant look.

“So I do know you from somewhere. What do you do? Do you sing?” Owen asked.

“I sing, yes, and I act a little bit, too,” Claire replied slowly.

Owen frowned.

“Hm, let’s see, singer, actor, red hair, very beautiful, named Claire,” he smirked at her for the last part, then he paused quickly, his facial expression becoming incredulous. “Wait – nah, that can’t be.” Claire just raised her eyebrows lightly.

“You’re Claire _Dearing_?” Owen asked in disbelief. Claire just nodded and had to bite back a smile at his dumbfounded expression.

“Holy shit, why didn’t I see that earlier? Seriously?” At that, Claire had to laugh outright and just nodded.

Owen shook his head. “Oh wow, I didn’t recognize you at all without a white outfit and your hair all … different. Why are you on the run from your manager?” he asked, slowly getting his groove back.

“It’s a long story. But I really, really don’t want him to find me,” Claire replied, looking at him pleadingly.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” Owen promised earnestly. He carefully rose up a little to peek across the wall, but immediately sat back down in one swift motion.

“He’s in the VIP box,” he warned and pressed his head against the wall.

Claire mimicked his motion, and the two of them remained like that for what seemed like forever, their hands still intertwined. Claire’s heart was racing as her wide eyes stared into his, and Owen was drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb as he steadily returned her gaze.

 

“He’s gone.”

The two of them almost jumped at Barry’s voice next to them.

“Thanks,” Owen replied as he got up and pulled Claire with him. She looked at Barry apprehensively.

“You know who she is?” Owen asked Barry.

“Now I do. Everyone in our business knows Vic Hoskins and who he’s repping,” Barry replied as he turned to look at Claire. “Can’t blame you from running from him either. Most people in the industry have already been wondering when you’d crack.”

Claire wasn’t sure what to say to that, and fortunately, Owen jumped in.

“I think it’s more than time for a change of scenery,” he said, and Barry and Claire nodded.

Owen called out to Blue, Delta, Charlie, and Echo, and soon the seven of them were walking down the strip.

 

 

 

Looking back at that night, Claire remembered three things most of all: How happy and relieved she felt, how she knew that she would never, ever let things go back to the way they were before, and Owen holding her hand.

 

She was finally free, but that didn’t mean she wanted to walk on her own anymore. She was more than ready for this, for _him_ , for herself, for a next step in her life. Even though she’d only known him for a few hours, she knew that Owen would always stop her from falling, and that he was all in, just like her. She couldn’t say _how_ she knew all this; she just _did_.

 

 

That night had felt like an eternity; they’d stayed out until sunrise, had partied and eaten junk food in the middle of the night, and she and Owen had snuck up to the roof of the hotel to watch the sunrise. She’d told him all about herself and how she’d finally found the strength to reclaim both her private and professional life from Vic and her mother. For a moment she’d worried that Owen would think that she was weird, or too messed up, but he’d just held her hand and told her that she was strong, that he admired her, and that he’d be there and that she wasn’t alone.

 

 

So when she woke up the next afternoon with Owen’s arm wrapped tightly around her, she knew that it didn’t matter that her mother had sent her countless texts, Vic was threatening to drop her as a client (which was just ridiculous, after all, he was the one who profited most from her, not the other way round), she’d missed several appointments, and that the media had eventually picked up on her and Owen during the night, flooding online and offline media with pictures of the two together. She just snuggled closer to him and thought about the endless possibilities that were now ahead of her.

 

 

Now, one and a half years later, she was standing in the Staples Center in LA, waiting for the Grammys to start, and most importantly, for Owen to show up. He’d promised that he’d be there, knowing how nerve wrecking tonight was for her. Letting go both her mother and Vic had been complicated and difficult, just as Claire had expected. There were countless legal bindings on top of their personal ones, and every now and then, Claire had thought that she would never be rid off them. Owen had been there at all times, just like he had promised, supporting her and believing in her. Ultimately, the worst was behind her, and Claire could finally focus on her music and her acting. With the help of Barry she’d found a new manager, new collaborators and a new band, and one year after that night in Vegas, she’d finally launched her first album that she’d produced entirely herself.

 

 

The album immediately skyrocketed to the top of the billboard charts and stayed there for the better part of several months. Her fans seemed to like her new direction, crowding venues where she was playing, and writing her countless messages of support.

 

As a result, tonight was all about the last bit of recognition. Before her new direction, she’d won up to nine Grammys during award season, and she was only hoping that her new album was received well, too.

 

Owen still wasn’t there and she felt as if her soul was turning into a melting pot. He always managed to calm her down when she was close to panicking, telling her that he got her and that he’d never leave. Claire wished with all her might that he’d be there in that very moment, too, to tell her exactly what she needed to hear.

 

She dreaded those moments when she was feeling all alone, and she just hoped that Owen wasn’t going to make her wait much longer.

 

Finally, she saw his blue eyes amongst the crowd as he walked towards her with fast steps.

 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he said as he pressed a kiss on to her lips. “Our flight was delayed.”

 

“Don’t worry, it’s all good. You’re here now,” Claire replied with a smile as the two of them settled into their chairs and his hand wrapped around hers. The opening ceremony began, and Owen gave her hand a little squeeze. 

 

He’d never let her fall.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
